Alfred Jones Goes to College
by buhyoo
Summary: The title really says it all, doesn't it? eventual Russia/America, eventual M
1. Chapter 1

God, his pillow's really fluffy and nice. He swears it changes—when he's actually trying to sleep at night, and he always ends up staying up thinking about superheroes and stuff like that (like how come Spiderman got bitten by a spider but Batman didn't get bitten by a bat, and isn't it kinda weird to be allergic to your own sun?) his pillow doesn't feel that great. He always has to roll around and think about stuff, tell himself stories. But right now? Right now his pillow feels absolutely freaking great.

Which is why it's not cool at all that Matt keeps yelling from downstairs. Jeez. He's going to college in, what, ten hours? He's got time, doesn't he? Packing isn't _that_ hard. But Matt won't shut up and hasn't shut up for the past quarter hour, so Alfred manages to force his head off his pillow and his feet onto the ground. He stands, stretches, yawns.

Swear to God his brother is more parental than their mom and dad. Ugh.

Alfred opens his closet doors and yanks out about twelve days' worth of shirts. He grabs pants, underwear, and socks to match, and flings everything into a pile at the bottom of the stairs to let Matt fold and pack. Then he takes the initiative in starting the hunt for all his pairs on sneakers…

Eventually he gets everything he needs crammed into – he glances at the pile, to check – four boxes, two long clear plastic containers, and a metal bucket. The only loose objects are a broom, his fan, and… well, himself. All of Matt's stuff is already packed in the other car, but his bro's boxes are covered with red tape. "In case you forget which is yours again, like on vacation." What vacation? Man, he didn't remember that.

Everyone herds into the kitchen and sits at the table for a last family dinner. It's pancakes, burgers, and french fries with gravy, something he and Matt both agree on as delicious. Their parents are pretty cool sometimes, although Mom ends up ranting about how grown up they are. He thinks it's stupidly sappy, but Matt ends up sniffling into his maple syrup and leaning over for a hug, so Al feels obligated to stand and get one too, or else he'll seem rude.

After that, they both trek back upstairs to bed—and it's like he said, his pillow is all uncomfortable again!—and he wishes Matt a good night before climbing under his rocketship-printed bedsheets, which he tried to pack but was told he was going to have to use a plain-color bed covering, which was completely lame, right? The rocketship ones gave him another thing to think about, let him imagine the stars and space, what was out there, probably Spock and Captain Kirk and he wonders if anybody would be able to introduce him to Uhura and…

Alfred fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Heather-Hitsugaya: **I'm glad that you're enjoying it, but the chapters will be as long as I feel they should be, thank you.  
**The Fujoshi:** They're both 18; in this story, they're already perfectly aware of their sexualities.

* * *

It's him and mom in one car, Matt and dad in the other, though they piled in without thinking in the morning, and he's actually ended up in the car with his brother's stuff. Not like it really matters. There's not going to be any reason to open the boxes until they're unloaded into their rooms—which, at some point, they're gonna have to switch to get to, since Matt's dorm is almost halfway across campus from his. Plus he has his Gameboy, so he's pretty much set for the trip. It's only about two hours up from home anyway.

After a while of electronically running around Kanto, and every now and then barking an answer to his mom's questions (and, at one point, passing her some tissues) he asked if they could stop at a rest stop. He was starting to feel nature calling, plus he saw on the road sign that they had a McDonald's. Perfect.

"Matt! Matt, hey!" He yells across the parking lot, running towards where Dad's car had pulled over.

His brother closed the car door and nodded to him. "Hey." They both started walking towards the rest stop together, their parents following along behind. "Al, by the way… we should swap cars after this, yeah?"

"Heh! Maybe I should drive you, let Mom and Dad come up after us!"

Matt just blinked. "That's probably dangerous and definitely rude, bro…"

"Y..yeah, I was kidding, duh!"

xxxxxxxxxx

So they were back on the road after grabbing food, Alfred having brought his large Coke in the car with him, though now he was with Dad. Dad was a lot quieter, but he didn't feel like turning his game back on, so he fell asleep with his head against the window.

He only woke up when Dad decided it'd be hilarious to roll the window down once they got there. Which, okay, it kinda was, but not when it was happening to him!

Alfred stood out of the car and opened the trunk, starting to take his boxes out. He just caught Mom's car, with Matt inside, turning the corner to head to another part of campus. He'd definitely have to drop by his bro's room later…

But for now, his priority was getting all his stuff into his room. Dad locked the car up and helped him load everything in this cart that was sitting by, he guessed they were out specifically for the freshmen moving in today (everybody else showed up tomorrow). It didn't take too long, and within fifteen minutes they had hauled everything into his room. It was pretty small, less floor space than his own room back home, but he'd been expecting that anyway.

His roommate—some guy with some weird foreign name, Taurus or something, like the car?—hadn't shown yet, so Alfred took the opportunity to call dibs on the nicer-looking bed and the desk closer to the window. He started unpacking his clothes to wherever he felt like they should go as Dad made his bed up.

Sooner or later, everything that he had to unpack before his parents went back was, well, unpacked. He could deal with the rest of it later, maybe once Taurus showed up. For now he gave his dad a hug goodbye and flopped down onto his newly-placed mattress. His parents didn't really have time to have another big meal on campus, so they wouldn't be meeting up again.

Alfred yawned, then stretched over to his desk to grab his phone. He shot off a text to Matt, asking what his room number was, then promptly let his head fall onto the pillow.

Man, he was exhausted.


	3. Chapter 3

**soggypotatoes: **Alfred's moving in is (very) loosely based off _my_ moving in. XD I fell asleep a _lot_. I promise not every chapter will end with him sleeping.

* * *

Alfred blinked and yawned, rubbing the sleep out his eyes. Shit, he didn't mean to pass out in the middle of the day like th-

"Ah!"

"AAHHHH!"

"I-I'm sorry, I dropped a book trying to set up my desk, did I wake you..?"

Alfred scrunched up in a pile of sheets on his bed and threw a pillow at the intruder. "Get out of my room! Why are you in here?"

"I'm… I'm your roommate?"

Oh.

Oh, uh, oops. "Uh… my bad!" Alfred hoisted himself out of bed and picked the pillow back up. "Sorry, guy."

Taurus just blinked. He guessed this was a pretty unorthodox way of meeting the person you'd be living with for the rest of the academic year, but at least the guy seemed pretty okay about it all. He looked kinda sickly, though.

"It's okay, don't worry about it… you're Alfred, right? I, um. I guess you didn't see my email. But that's okay, don't worry about that either… oh, and I'm—"

"Taurus, I got you, man!"

"Ah." His roomie shifted on the pads of his feet, setting his books upright. "Actually it's Toris, you're not quite pronouncing the—"

Alfred laughed. "Whatev, bud. I'll call you T, okay? Saves everyone some time."

"Um… I'd really rather you—"

"Great!"

Now that his roomie had showed, Alfred was going to do his best to stop passing out in the middle of the day. Classes started in a few days anyway, and not like he was a huge nerd or anything, but he figured he might as well try not to sleep through the first meetings of his courses.

He checked his phone real quick and saw that Matt had texted his room number back, plus their parents had sent some sappy XOXO message. He skimmed them both and deleted; he could remember a three-degree number easy.

His bed was already mussed, and even though it didn't bug him, Taurus pretty much immediately went from making his own bed to… fixing Al's.

"Um, dude…"

"Oh! Sorry!" Taurus stepped away from the mattress like it was on fire. "I like cleaning, it's kind of… um, a way of relaxing my mind. Sorry."

He shrugged. "S'alright? But if you make it I'll just have it fucked up again within five minutes, so y'know."

"Right… sorry."

xxxxxxxxxx

It took a little while for them both to find the downtown area, then find a little place they both agreed on, but Al and Taurus had decided it'd be best if they went out for lunch to talk about, you know, stuff. The place was pretty brightly decorated, all colors and shapes on the wall and things like that. It sold both light sandwiches and some pretty great-looking burgers, so it was perfect.

Alfred took a sip of his Coke and leaned back in his chair. "So what're you studying or whatever?"

"Oh, me?"

"…who the hell else is here, dude?" he laughed.

"Ah…" Taurus looked away, took a bite of a potato chip, then came back down to Earth. "Anthropology?"

He blinked at the intonation. "Well are you or aren't you?"

"No, um, I am! Sorry. Er… and what are you doing?"

"Dunno yet. I signed up for some science classes and Intro Philosophy and shit like that. I figure I'll work it out as it comes."

Their food arrived, so they both took a pause in the conversation to enjoy a few bites, forcing Al to think about his academic status. Well, at least think about it as much as he was going to bother to. He knew he had to pick a major eventually, and probably a minor too… but he really didn't know how everyone else seemed to know what they wanted to become.

When Al looked at the course catalogue, he saw a thousand classes he wanted to take. He saw tons of majors he could see himself looking into. Yeah, he liked science a whole lot, but he liked a lot of the humanities a lot too. He saw a bunch of different routes of specialization he'd like to look into as well. Genetics! Nuclear physics! Astronomy! Why did he have to just do one thing? Not cool…

Taurus must have been psychic or something.

"Don't worry about it, by the way..? Ah, that is, I'm sure you'll figure something out soon! And there's no pressure to do it right now, or… or anything like that. So just take what you want to right now, right?"

"Hey, yeah!" Al reached across the table to punch Taurus in the shoulder, though the reaction looked a bit more pained than he expected. "You're right, man! No worries!"

"Yes, it's—"

"Hakuna matata!"

"…what?"


	4. Chapter 4

"That's your roommate?"

"Yeah…"

"Does he… move?"

"Yeaaaaah…"

"I mean he didn't even look when I came in and he's, like, not—"

"I'm pretty sure he can _hear _you, Al."

"HE MOVED HOLY CRAP!"

"I apologize for my rudeness! It was a significant part of the game… it's nice to make your acquaintance, Alfred."

"Riiight, uh, ditto. I guess." Alfred cast a desperate glance to his brother.

Who fortunately understood what it meant. "Kiku, Alfred. Alfred, Kiku."

He knew his brother's cleaning habits, but Kiku seemed to be a mess… in the sense that he wasn't. Alfred couldn't really figure it out. His desk was absolutely covered with brightly-colored toys and dolls and magazines, but it was spotless of any trash, and everything was pretty much in an exact place. Weird as hell.

He'd had a hand out for a handshake, but took it back once it seemed obvious that Kiku wasn't going to stand away from his laptop. Which was… covered in stickers. Okay, whatever.

"You a freshman too?"

Kiku shook his head. "Sophomore… because I'm a transfer student."

"Uhh, okay, great…"

Suddenly, Kiku stuck both his hands out in thumbs-ups. "Everyone! Let's have a good year!"

xxxxxxxxxx

They decided to leave Kiku to his game, sitting instead on a bench outside Matt's dorm. There was a bit of a breeze, but it was still pretty hot out, so the heat was blowing into their faces. Fortunately, they'd sat down in a shaded area.

Matt wiped a tiny sheen of sweat from his forehead, then sighed happily. "We're finally here, yeah?"

"Ugh," Al whined. "Don't tell me you're gonna get all sappy too?"

That earned him a light punch to the shoulder. "Shut up, Al. This is a big deal. Look…"

"Maaaatt, c'mon—"

"No. Alfred. Promise me you're going to take this seriously, okay? Don't just skip class and go to frat parties all the time. Be mature."

"I will."

Matt smiled. "Good."

"Don't worry, _Mom_."

That got him a second punch. Not quite so light.

xxxxxxxxxx

Al got back to his room later that night, after wandering around campus for curiosity's sake. He managed to chat up a few people on the buses and such; if anything, at least he definitely had Matt beat out in the social-life department. He'd bet right now that all his professors'll love him.

He opened the door, immediately by Taurus, who was sitting on his own bed reading—a... what?

"Isn't that a textbook?"

"Oh! Yeah. I thought I would start early, you know?"

Alfred blinked, flopping onto his bed. He left the door open. "Classes aren't for, like, four days…"

Taurus just nodded. "Yeah. Early. I mean, I don't have anything else to do—"

"Go out, T! Go meet people, they're everywhere! There's gotta be a party somewhere!"

"I've never really been into that sort of thing…"

"Ugh. Everyone around me is so _weird_. I better meet somebody fun eventually."

Taurus sighed and closed his textbook, thank God. Maybe Al could teach his roomie some sense. He guessed he could deal with having a crazy nerd sitting in his room, studying at all hours of the day, but if he could avoid it he'd rather.

It's not that he hated learning, he wouldn't have applied to college if he did, but… he wasn't really fond at all of the idea of doing it _all the time_. He understood doing homework and reviewing for whatever was going to be in the next class, but reading a textbook before classes had even started up? Crazy talk.

Taurus scooted forward to sit on the edge of his bed, then spoke up. "By the way, Alfred? Have you seen some… er, really tall blond guy hanging around here?"

"Eh? No, why?"

"…nothing. No reason!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Whyntir: **I can't revert to Toris this late in the game because it _is_ a matter of Alfred's perspective influencing the narrative, but I'll compromise? He'll mentally refer to Toris as "T" from now on.

* * *

It's about 9 AM when Alfred heads out of the communal bathroom, just having brushed his teeth of his awesome breakfast of beef ramen, and walks back to his room. He smiles as he looks out the window and sees it's a bright and warm day again; he'll be able to walk around without freezing to death.

T is still asleep—he sleeps weird, one pillow under his head and another next to him, with an arm around it—so Alfred tries to put his bathroom stuff down quietly. Just as he's about to fire up his 360, he hears yelling from the hallway, and peeks his head out.

"For goodness's sake! Stop following me!"

"Ah, ah! I am not following; it is a coincidence! We both must head to the bathroom at the same time, it's a natural occurrence, isn't it? Oui, I think s—"

"Shut up!" A short-haired boy with a towel wrapped around his lower half turns to glare at a slightly taller, slightly longer-haired boy in a tank top and boxers. "Just follow, then, and shut the hell up!"

"As I said, I am not following you, Arthur dear."

Alfred couldn't help but crack up at the resulting scowling and grumbling, which was really unfortunate, because he forgot that he was definitely visible.

"Have you got a problem?" the short-haired one—Arthur—barked out.

"Oh, uhh." Al tried to retreat back into his room. "Nope! Carry on, s'all good!"

Arthur threw his hands up angrily. "Really, I have no idea why I didn't go for off-campus—"

"You are only a sophomore, mon amour!"

"Can't well believe they gave me the _same bloody roommate_…"

"Oh, hush, stop your childish _whining_." Alfred didn't catch the movement that caused it, but he saw straight-on Arthur's enraged face and, um, well. His, y'know?

"FRANCIS I SWEAR ON MY MOTHER'S GRAVE—"

"But your mother is very much alive. Do you know I have her on Facebook? A lovely woman, really!"

"I don't care! Shut up!" Arthur hoisted his towel back into place, suddenly flushing red once he caught Alfred's eye. "Don't pants me in the hallway, you tit!"

"Technically that was not your pants, and do you mean that I can do it in the privacy of our room?"

xxxxxxxxxx

By the time those two had actually gotten out of the hallway and into the bathroom (Alfred didn't want to think about whether they were still yelling in there), T had woken up. Although come to think of it, he might have woken up _because_ of those two.

"What _was_ that?" he asked, following it up with a yawn.

"Some guys a few doors down."

"Oh." T sat up and stood out of bed, heading over to slip his shower shoes on. Alfred silently wished him luck if he was gonna be in the bathroom with the Dynamic Duo there. "I hope they're not like that all the time…"

Alfred laughed. "At least it's lively!"

"I'm gonna head over to brush my teeth and shower, I know you leave the room a lot, so… see you later?"

"Yeah."

He wasn't about to leave right away, though, he still had a few things to clear up. He booted up his laptop and checked his email. Yup, some of the professors had sent lists of the books he had to get. So… he figured he might as well do that today—it was still proactive, but not as crazy-go-nuts as T with the pre-class studying.

He slung his backpack around his shoulders and stuffed the book list in a pocket. The official bookstore was only a couple blocks away, but it'd help to be able to carry the books on his back instead of in a bag. He could carry anything no problem, of course, but why do it if he didn't have to?

Right upon opening the door to the store, he was greeted by… Matt.

"Welcome to—Al! Hey!"

"What the heck, dude?" Why was his brother here?

Matt shrugged, and gestured him into the store. Al stepped out of the way of other people trying to get inside. "I applied ages ago, asked about student positions. I can work opening to closing until classes start, and work it around my schedule after that."

"For real…"

"It's $8.50 an hour, Al! Way worth it. I told you to look for something, didn't I?"

"Maaaan!" He couldn't believe this. Was everyone he knew this much of a loser? "You're a freshman, calm down with the responsibility!"

"And this is why our parents are glad we're going to the same place… just go get your books, Al." Matt laughed a little at the end of that, but it didn't sound very sincere.

So Al gave 'im a hug. That'll patch it up! "See ya, bro!"


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred slowly made his way back across campus towards his dorm. He could have taken a bus, but it was pretty awesome out, and he still had more people to get to know! It wasn't too hard to carry the books, because he was a total genius for bringing his backpack, and he even stopped along the way to pick up a smoothie.

T was still hanging around in the room when he got back, so he took the initiative in kicking him out, telling him to go around the building and say hi to some of the people who lived around them.

He dumped his backpack onto his bed, then hopped onto Facebook, chugging a Coke while he was waiting for his laptop to boot up. He had a handful of friend requests, all of which he accepted, then after checking up on his farm he noticed an event invite.

"T! T come back!"

He was out in the hall, standing in front of their neighbor's door, fretting about whether to knock, when Al caught him. "Er, y-yes?"

"I got us set! Forget the door-to-door Girl Scout crap!"

"O…kay?" T seemed confused, but whatever.

This was going to be awesome. This was going to be beyond awesome. "There's a party! I dunno the guy, but Arthur shot me an invite! He didn't really seem like a party kind of guy to me, you know? Francis did, maybe. Maybe they'll both be there? Ahaha! You gotta come!"

"Um…"

"You'll come, right? C'mon!" Alfred put on his best puppy-dog eyes.

"…you mean tonight, right?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "You betcha!"

"…"

"Weeelll?" He really hoped T would come with. Not like he'd be awkward and shy if he had to show up alone, but it always just felt super uncool. He wouldn't have to worry at all if someone came with.

"I'm not allowed to say no, am I?"

"Hahahaha, we're gonna get along great, buddy!"

xxxxxxxxxx

"Oi, hey. Get in." Arthur had been standing on the porch, some senior's house, smoking—he opened the door and kept it ajar until Al could run up and get it.

"Thanks, dude."

"S'nothing. …you brought that one?"

T flinched. "I, uh, I'll be okay! Promise!"

"Not worried about you." Arthur sighed, stepped off the wall, and put his cigarette out where he stood, leaving a small burn smudge on the wood. "You do anything gets this party broke up, I guarantee Antonio will have your ass. Usually nice, but… eh. Well. Get in."

"Thanks." Alfred stepped inside, followed by T, with Arthur leading up the rear. "You're not quite as, uh. Loud."

"Yeah, well. Francis isn't _always_ around, is he."

Alfred laughed. "I guess not? Isn't he around somewhere, though?"

"Already went off back home to visit his cousin or something. Anyway. Go mingle. Off with you."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Thought you weren't a party guy…" Alfred stared at T, who was sitting on the other couch cushion, alone (which was something Al should work on, he reflected, at least between the kisses from the girl wedged on his cushion with him).

"M'not!" T laughed and took a bit more of his drink. The red cup didn't seem to make any sense in his hand. "Doesn't meant I don't drink?"

"Man, even I couldn't do that much… you European or some shit?"

"_Eastern_ European!" T couldn't stop laughing. "S-sorry! But… you have nothing on me, haha…"

He patted the other boy on the shoulder, which somehow prompted him to chug the rest of the cup and wander off towards more. So… Alfred turned back to the girl leaning across his lap.

"Uh." Not like he would argue with getting some, but wasn't this a little public? "Uh, hey…"

"Hey, quiet. I'm just taking his spot." And so she did, having climbed over him just to sit where T had been. "Some reason, boys think a girl _loves_ to sit on the armrest. Let me tell you… no. I want my ass to be numb by the end of the night?"

"…no?"

"No. I do _not_." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "What was your name again?"

"Name's Alfred Jones!" He beamed. "I'm the greatest freshman you'll meet this year!"

She just burst out laughing at that. Well. Not the intended effect. "God, really?" After a moment, she shook her head slowly, still clearly amused. Dammit. "I'm a junior… Elizaveta."

"That's a lot of syllables…"

"It isn't! And be glad I didn't tell you my _actual_ name." She giggled and leaned up to give him another kiss; he couldn't say he minded. "You'd have a lot more trouble."

"What, are you Esmeralda Juan-Carlo Hernandez, Crown Princess of the Far Nation of—"

"_Please_ stop talking." And she managed to shut him up, for a few minutes. She was really… soft, even though she talked so tough. He kinda liked it.

Once she pulled away, he stroked her cheek, playing cool. "So do I get your number?"

"Oh, no, not at all." She responded as if this was the most obvious answer in the world. "I doubt my boyfriend would be very happy with that."

…what? "Your—"

"My boyfriend. He lets me kiss other boys, because I let him do the same." There goes her giggling again. "But no more than that… and _trust me_, I won't be going back on my word to him. You're very sweet, Alfred—"

"But! But I—"

"But no."

xxxxxxxxxx

Around five minutes after Elizaveta left, T came wandering back. He had another full cup (Al wasn't entirely willing to ask _what_ he was drinking, because it was blue) but looked mildly terrified.

"What's up?" Alfred scooted aside to let him take the seat he had been in before—now that it was open again.

"A-ah, just…" He shook his head, like he didn't want to say. "Nothing, nothing."

"Y'sure?"

"Yes! Absolutely!"

"…okay?" He didn't look very sure at all, but hell if Al was going to press the point for no good reason. Shortly after that not-really-a-conversation, T got up again.

Alfred figured that was his cue to wander around. He happened to run into Arthur again, and they shot the breeze for a little while; turned out the sophomore was a pretty cool guy when he wasn't accidentally flashing people.

"..hum." Arthur was glancing off towards a different room. Alfred tried to look, but couldn't quite see from his angle.

"What is it?"

"Ehm—what's-his-name. Your roommate… in a bit of a jam, looks like."

Alfred sighed and walked over to see what was going on. He tried to yell at the crowd to get them to part so he could burst in and valiantly rescue T from whatever it was, but they wouldn't budge, preoccupied with a game of beer pong, so he was stuck peeking around the doorframe and listening in.

"Why are you here..?" T asked to a very tall blond dude. Who was… wearing a scarf? In September? Ugh. Probably some ridiculous art student.

"It was on Alfred's Facebook!" Whoa, what? "I looked, and he said he was coming, and so I thought—ah! Perhaps I will come by!" Who the fuck was this dude and why was Alfred being somewhere a good reas—

Actually, no, come to think of it, that was definitely a good reason for anyone to come to a party. Huh. Awesome.

The crowd of beer pong people suddenly burst into an uproar, and he couldn't hear anything, so he wandered back off, shooting a text to T to tell him he was heading back early. People were getting loud; he didn't feel like risking anything this early in the year. So despite wanting to compliment Tall Guy on his awesome taste, he slipped out the front door, waving a goodbye to Arthur who was milling around on the porch again, and left.

The night air smelled great.


	7. Chapter 7

"Buuuuddy…"

"G'way."

Alfred laughed, and T flailed an arm out at him. "C'mon! Buddy!"

"Please don't make noise…" T groaned and rolled away from Alfred until he was curled up facing the wall of their room.

He didn't generally take pleasure in other people's pain, but this was a good sign, at least: yeah, maybe his roommate could drink more and get less drunk, but _damn_ if Alfred ever got a hangover like that.

Actually Alfred didn't remember ever getting one.

"Get you a bucket?"

"Mmmmgh."

"I'll take that as a yes… you're welcome!"

Alfred grabbed the bucket he'd packed, but it was a little gross on the inside; he ran it to the bathroom to wash it out. He caught a swish of pinkish fabric turning the corner at the end of the hall. But he didn't worry about it, just washed the bucket out and plopped it back down in the room for T.

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Classes were tomorrow… this would be his last day totally free of work and worry about grades. Ugh. He should be out on the town with somebody, like Eliza—vezaleza—Liz. But that'd messed up.

Matt would be having a "day of rest" or whatever. T was obviously out. Francis still wasn't back.

So Alfred found himself knocking on Arthur's door.

"You know," the sophomore grumbled as he opened up, "people keep their doors open to indicate a willingness to socialize. People who _don't, _then…"

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred waved him off, nudged his way inside. He wasn't going to laze around alone all day; he wanted to at least hang out with somebody.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Fine. Welcome to my _humble_ abode. Do you want tea."

"Was that… a question?"

"It _was_ but it will quickly stop being one if you don't—"

"I don't really like tea, so…" Alfred blinked. Why was Arthur so… grumbly? "Somethin' up?"

"…" He sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "…sorry. It's rather stressful, being with him again. I've been thinking about it too much. Wearing on me."

"Can't you switch roommates?" Alfred asked.

Arthur shook his head quickly. "I mean, I _can_. I could. But." Arthur was silent for a good few seconds, then coughed, looking to the ground. "But then I would have lost."

"…oh. Okay?"

Arthur waved him off again, then stood up, starting to make up some tea, though only for himself. "Can't believe I'm forced to make this in a microwave, for goodness's sake…"

"Is that bad?"

"Of _course_ it's bad! I consider myself a pretty decent cook, you know. Microwaves simply ruin everything. Kill the flavor."

Whoa, someone who cooked? Alfred would definitely have to mooch off of him sometime. He liked the dining hall food so far but based on the reactions to it from the upperclassmen, eventually he'd get sick of it. It didn't seem all that likely to him, really, but he should always have more food options!

"Oh, hey!" he interjected. "When's Francis gettin' back?"

"Ehm… later tonight. Tell me you don't like him."

"Y'both seem like pretty cool guys to me, sorry, haha!"

xxxxxxxxxx

A couple hours later, there was a quiet knocking on the door. He and Arthur—playing card games on Arthur's bed—looked up. Alfred smiled and waved, Arthur cursed under his breath.

"Bonjour! I have returned!" Francis exclaimed as he came into the room. Had to give him credit, dude knew how to make an entrance. But…

"What is that _godawful_ stench, Francis?" Arthur sniffed audibly.

Francis looked shocked—uh, well, Francis tried to look like Francis looked shocked. He didn't do it very well. "Cologne, my dear uncultured roommate! My cousin is a terribly sweet girl. She bought me a few bottles; I, of course, will be wearing them in her honor."

"Every… day?"

Francis smiled and nodded. Arthur cursed, and Alfred had to laugh. And then—

He caught that pink fabric out in the hallway again.

"'Scuse me, folks…" Alfred got up and stepped out of the room, glancing down the hall both ways. To the right, he saw the hastily retreating figure of… that tall guy. That tall guy T had been talking to at the party.

"Hey! …you! Hey!" He followed after. The other boy slowed for a moment, glanced behind himself, then sped up and continued to head in the opposite direction.

Alfred didn't follow—he'd never changed out of his bare feet from the morning, and wasn't up to footing it across campus with a million blisters.

Still… fucking weird.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred already didn't want to be here. It's not that he didn't wanna go to class. Well, he didn't, but he knew he had to, if he wanted to graduate. And he _did_ want to graduate. And he wanted to know stuff, too, but he'd prefer if he could just know it without having to learn it first. That'd be nice. But yeah—

He was in class, fortunately a lecture hall, and yawning. He stayed out with Francis and Arthur so long last night… turns out Arthur had scheduled himself out of having class on Mondays, and Francis was some sort of evil creature that could function on an hour of sleep a week or something like that…

He knew he had to be here to get the syllabus and stuff but he reaaaaally wanted to go back home. To his mattress. His warm mattress, his nice fluffy pillows, his…

Alfred blinked his eyes a few times.

The professor was talking. A syllabus was somehow sitting on his desk in front of him. It had a little frowny face scribbled on top in red pen.

Aw. Crap.

xxxxxxxxxx

"You fell asleep in your _first class_?" Matt asked, in shock, over his latte.

Alfred… yawned again. "Yeah, shut up."

"Tell me you were out partying."

"No."

"Are you saying you weren't out, or that you aren't going to tell me about it?"

"…Maaaatt.."

Matt stood up quickly, almost knocking over his drink; he ducked down real quick to make sure it didn't spill, then glared back at Alfred. "I'm not doing this anymore! I'm not babysitting my older brother all through college!"

"No one's asking you to." Al grabbed his own drink, a cold hot chocolate (he was so glad he lived in a world where that made sense) with tons of caramel goop, and sucked a few mouthfuls down. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He pointed at Matt and—put his finger down.

Matt stared. "…yes?"

"Uh. No. I, uh—something like that. It's none of your business. Yeah."

"Really, Al?" Matt sank back into his chair. "We're brothers. We went to the same college because neither of us wanted to go somewhere the other one wasn't. You piss me off, but I… are you…"

"Uh?"

"Are you listening to me at all." Al saw Matt rest his chin on the palm on his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, anyway.

"No, that—guy. Outside the window there? Across the street?"

Matt followed his gaze to the tall blond student outside. "What, is he your dealer? Did he hold the party? Do you want me to get his number for you?"

"No shut up! He's stalking me or something!" Al pressed his nose against the window, hoping that if he looked closer, he could understand why this guy kept hanging around him.

Matt jabbed his shoulder. "Hey, isn't that your roommate?"

"What, where?"

"Right over there, like three feet in front of him! It looks like he's following Toris…"

"Huh? Why would T be stalking me too?" Alfred raised an eyebrow at the situation then chugged more of his drink, right as Matt stood – again – and actually picked his latte up this time.

He caught the motion of a hand waving, and mumbled something in response. He heard the soft jingle of the café's door opening then closing just as T, then the guy, rounded a corner one after the other.

Shit! They must have caught him looking!

One thing was clear, though—there was no way he could mention it to T. It was so late in the game now… he already ran into that guy a couple times… he couldn't believe he'd been missing it! If he asked what was up _now_, he'd seem like such a moron!


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred's next class managed to go a lot better than the first. Although it would probably have been really hard for it _not_ to. He'd grabbed a nap after meeting Matt, and woke up just in time to hustle down to the building. He found the room number, and—lecture hall! Yeah, okay, it made sense that Physics 101 would be a pretty enormous class.

He wedged into one of the tiny chairs and pulled the even tinier desk out. It only fit the space of one piece of paper. Geesh.

The rest of the students filtered in slowly, so he whipped his phone out and started messing around on Tetris. God he really needed to get a better phone, something with apps so he could… actually do stuff when he wasn't doing stuff.

"Alright…"

Oh, that was the teacher. Alfred finished this row then closed his phone and plopped it on his desk, then though better given the available space, and slipped it into his pocket.

"We're five minutes after starting time. Anyone who shows up after now is late. And yes," the professor continued as the whole class blinked in silence, "I mean that I'll be counting it. You _will_ want to get here on time."

…man. At least he'd gotten here early enough to hear that. He'd been hoping for relatively lax professors…

Alfred bit his lip to stifle a yawn—had to be because of the nap he just took, right? There's no way he was tired again—or maybe just because of the class—and leaned forward, watching the professor. He was some old guy, pretty much looked like who you thought of if someone said 'professor' to you- old scratchy brown suit, bad combover…

"I'll be taking attendance. Last name, first name. Simply raise your hand."

He took this opportunity to space out again. Fortunately, he knew the alphabet, and paid enough attention to be listening for the Js. Rather than totally wandering off into a daydream, though, he scanned the room. His eyes landed on the tall blond guy.

Alfred's gasp was loud enough to make a third of the room look back to him. Including the teacher. Which made everyone who hadn't looked to begin with turn too.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"Uhh…" Dammit! Was there some kind of conspiracy to make all his professors hate him from the first day? He'd bet there was! Maybe T and this dude were slipping sleeping pills in his drinks! And… making him gasp really loud! Yeah!

Okay, maybe not… but still.

"What's your name?"

"Crap, um- Jones. Alfred Jones." It occurred to him right after he gave his name that he should have risked supplying a fake. Oh well.

"Well, Alfred, I suppose I'll mark you present, won't I? But do try not to be a disruption; I don't tolerate people who become disruptions."

"N-no sir! I won't! …again! Pinky promise!"

That earned him a few chuckles from the surrounding seats, and the professor raised an eyebrow. "Continuing with the list, then… Biggs, Elizabeth?" He waited, and marked the paper when a girl held her hand high. "Good… now, tell me if I mispronounce this—Braginsky, Ivan?"

That's him!

He rose his hand!

Ivan!

Braginsky, Iv—er, Ivan Braginsky! And he must have been among the people who turned and laughed at him—Ivan must also know that Alfred was in here. Especially since he gave his name, and if Ivan had been poking around his Facebook…

Alfred drifted in and out of focus while the professor went over the syllabus. Weirdly, it was mostly when he was actually _looking_ at the matching paper that he didn't absorb any of what the guy was saying. The words all just sort of wobbled around into nonsense.

His thoughts were preoccupied… did Ivan sign up for this class because he was in it? Could you even figure that out? Was Ivan breaking into secret college documents? Was he a spy? Okay, no—

His attention wavered back to where it was supposed to be as the professor went over grade distribution. Okay. Essays, participation, quizzes. Right. He could do this. He was eighteen. He was in college. Time to pay attention to stuff.

Images of Ivan sneaking around the White House were floating around in his head as the other students started standing up. Alfred rushed to gather his things up and shove them in his bag, but he dropped the syllabus across a row and slammed his leg into a chair arm trying to run over to get it.

By the time he got out of the room, he couldn't find Ivan in the crowd anywhere.


	10. Chapter 10

**everyone:** IT WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME CLEAR WHAT IS UP WITH IVAN. I promise. Not necessarily soon, but eventually. Also I'm sorry for the delay! I got an ear infection and went home and stuff!

Alfred is in his floor's lounge, sitting with his laptop, well, on his lap. He _has_ a Word doc open, and it's got a couple sentences typed in—it's for an assignment he was supposed to do over the summer, it's due two days from now, about some book—but he hasn't really touched it in a while. He's just sort of fiddling around on Facebook and that pinball game.

If anyone looked at his screen (they wouldn't; he was wedged in a single chair facing away from a corner) the Facebook tab read "Ivan Bragin …"

He kept jamming the arrows keys, smashing the pinball around the screen and whooping in joy when he hit a wormhole or leveled up the engines and armor, until something out in the hall caught his interest. A familiar voice…

"H-hey." Wasn't that—

"Ah!" _That_ was definitely Francis. "Hello, Matthew!"

Holy—what?

Alfred closed his laptop with a click and hurried out into the hall to see what was up. Just as he started heading down to the door, it was pulled shut by the unmistakable sleeve of his little brother's red hoodie. He'd go over and invite himself in, but… nah.

Alfred wandered back to the lounge and took up the pinball game again. It was good that Matt was getting friends outside of him.

Though he'd never think Francis and Matthew would mesh…

xxxxxxxxxx

"A-ah, hang on—"

Alfred thought he heard T's voice wafting from the room, but it was dull and muffled, so he creaked the door open. "Eh?"

"Crap! Um, just—just hang on, um, F-Feliks! Feliks _please_ be quiet…"

"S'everything alright?" Alfred tried to peek in a bit. T was alone, so… what? "Can I come in?"

"Y- no! Yes, but—yes!"

Alfred… wasn't sure what that meant, but he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in the room, placing his laptop back on the desk he usually kept it. He sat in his chair, rustling his hair a bit before looking over at T's bed. He was sitting, muttering into a phone.

"Uh," Alfred ventured. "You okay there?"

T looked over, wide-eyed. Like a deer. "Yes! Sorry! Just, uh. A friend on the phone."

"Hahaha, dude…" He shot his best smile, making sure it was sincere, making sure he didn't scare the shit out of his roomie. "If you want alone time, here, see this shoelace? Knot it around the doorknob and Good Sir Alfred will stay in the hall. Promise!"

He didn't wait for a response, because he was pretty sure that T was about three seconds away from passing out, he just tossed the lace on his roommate's bed and slipped back out of the room.

He paused in the hallway a second, looking at Francis's door, hearing Matthew's laughter filtering out, but—no. No, he was gonna be better than that.

More time to walk around outside, then!


	11. Chapter 11

"Alfred! Hey, Alfred!"

He turns out of curiosity. The setting sun blinds his vision for a sec, but soon the shapes form into a person. It's… what's-her-name…

"Elizaveta. Don't strain yourself, honey." She smiles, and tilts her head, indicating the scrawny-ass dude next to her. "This is Roderich!"

It takes him a minute. "…your boyfriend?" He asks.

Liz—he remembers that now—simply nods in response. Roderich sticks his hand out, weirdly, and he shakes. Didn't think people their age still did that… oh, well. Liz and Rod (man, he's good at nicknames!) are juniors: two years older than he is. Maybe that's why.

"So Alfred!" she pipes up, like a bird or something. There's just this weird quality to her voice, this little giddy undertone. He tries to ignore it. "I heard through the grapevine that you have—"

Rod cut her off with what Alfred supposed counted for a glare. He looked too fancy to really be threatening, though. "Elizaveta, is this really necessary? Need I remind you what happened last year?"

"Hush! Let me talk."

Alfred nodded, agreeing with her. Damn, he was curious. What did he have?

"Ahem! I heard you have an admirer?"

"…do I?" Did he?

Liz blinked. "Well," she qualified, "this is what I've _heard_. My sources are generally reliable, but of course there could be a mistake." She leaned on the balls of her feet, rocking a bit. "Hasn't he been following you around?"

"He?"

"Oh… my." She paused and looked at Rod, who shot her what Alfred unmistakably knew was an I-told-you-so look. He was better at that one. "No? Ivan?"

What? He… _what?_ She's saying Ivan wasn't following him because he was an evil spy hell-bent on toppling the government, but because he _liked_ Alfred?

That made no sense!

xxxxxxxxxx

It was way dark out now, almost around midnight, and Alfred hadn't been back to his room in hours. At first it was out of reluctance to cut T off, but there was no way in hell he was still going at it now, so… he kind of just didn't want to go back yet. Felt like if he stepped inside his dorm, he was acknowledging that he had classes again tomorrow.

Or something like that.

Besides, Alfred liked nights, liked the way the slight chill cut on his skin. Gave him time to think, too. About what Liz had said. Maybe she was just fucking with his head? But she seemed pretty genuinely interested…

What'd happened last year? What was up with that?

Wait, was he trusting the word of some girl who made out with him on a couch without mentioning her _boyfriend_? Was that smart? On the other hand, she seemed too pretty to be lying to him. He leaned sideways, letting himself fall onto the hard wood of the bench, then twisting to look up at the blueish-black sky. He couldn't find the moon.

He… knew it didn't bother him that someone might like him. Heck, he'd be flattered, he'd congratulate their good taste. And it's not like he cared that it was a dude, either; he never figured out how people made the distinction. He'd like anybody.

But following him to his dorm? Registering for his classes? Sneaking around and spying into a coffee shop? That was beyond fucked up. And he worried a little about anyone who was willing to do that.

He'd have to confront him about it…

xxxxxxxxxx

"Matt?"

"Whaaaat…"

"If there was somebody, like, following you around—"

"Please tell me this isn't hypothetical, you woke me up, do you even know what time it is…"

"…it's 12:30."

"Ughhh, exactly! What. What is it."

"Somebody following you around! And then someone else who you're, uh, not entirely sure you believe but you kind of want to because she's really pretty but her boyfriend is kind of stuck-up tells you that the person likes you and, uh. Yeah. What would you do?"

"…"

"Matt?"

"I'm going to hang up the phone."

"Matt!"

"I'm going to hang up, and you're going to call me tomorrow. At noon. Coherently."

"Hey, hey come on!"

"Good night, Alfred."

"Matt!"


	12. Chapter 12

**everyone:** Newer chapters will probably be taking this newer rate from now on, 2-3 days between rather than a single day. I have many other responsibilities now! Mainly a shit-ton of other fic that fell from the sky. But also a paper about communism. And things like that.

* * *

Arthur had stepped out of the bathroom just as Alfred was unlocking the door to his own room, so he'd waved him in. (He'd been, er, using the facilities, at least—Alfred imagines he probably wouldn't invite somebody in if they were sopping wet and only wearing a towel.) Alfred sat on the edge of his desk, brushing his small collection of syllabi away first, letting his sneakers rest on the chair he usually sat at. Arthur sat on the edge of T's bed, since it was directly across.

"Ehm… how've your classes been, and all that?"

Alfred shrugs. "None of 'em have really done anything yet. It's all like, here's the expectations, don't come late, mumble mumble, Alfred please wake up, blah blah—"

"You've fallen asleep in class already?" Arthur looked dumbfounded, which took Alfred by surprise. He was under the impression that college students fell asleep a lot… classes were big, right? That meant it'd be harder for teachers to care. Not like in high school.

"…no?" He tried.

Arthur just sighed, then actually took the effort to stand off T's bed, cross the (admittedly tiny) distance across the room, and pull on Alfred's ears.

"Ow ow ow _hey_—!"

"Don't! Sleep! In! Class!" He tugged and tugged until Alfred thought they might come off, then retreated and sat back down. Fuck, ow… "It's irresponsible. You've only just got here, _try_ to look like you want to stick around, why don't you?"

Alfred whined a little, but nodded, agreeing. Geez. Arthur was worse than his parents. Worse than _Matt_.

Oh yeah, speaking of him—

"Hey, has my bro been hanging out with you guys?"

Arthur frowned slightly. "With Francis."

"How did they…"

"Believe me or not? On the bus."

Alfred burst out laughing. That sounds like _exactly_ how Matt would meet somebody. "Oh god, he probably bumped into him…"

Arthur smiled a little sadly. "From what I understand, that's exactly correct."

"Well, good for Matty, then!" Alfred smiled, keeping up the optimism he was always so proud of. "He's a total stick-in-the-mud, or he was back home, but Francis seems pretty cool, maybe he'll grow out of it—"

"Don't talk like that!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. But… it was true! And it was potentially a good thing! "Whatcha mean?"

"Ah." Arthur bit his lip, then stopped, like he was afraid to be caught. "That—that Francis is cool, I mean. As that's obviously… a lie."

"Pfft! Haha! I love you guys!"

Alfred caught a smile, a tiny one but a smile, from Arthur. "Yes, well."

xxxxxxxxxx

T came back before Arthur had left, so Arthur promptly stood and relocated to _Alfred's_ bed. "Apologies."

"Uh, n-not at all. I mean, it's fine!" T tried to smile at him, dropped his bag on the ground quietly, and sat in the chair at his desk. "I'm Toris."

"Arthur, from down the hall."

"Ah… yes."

Arthur flopped down, stretching out on Alfred's bed. Dammit. "I expect you've heard Francis and me?"

Al cut in. "Francis _and_ _I_."

"…no. Shut up."

T laughed a little, then immediately cut himself off. Mostly because Alfred chucked an empty water bottle at him, but uh. Still. "But, um. Yes! I have heard you two, that is… um… it's kind of hard not to, haha."

Arthur shrugs again. "S'how it is. Last year there was a complaint. Thought the bloody school'd get a hint and _not_ tempt the Furies by sticking us together again, but there you are."

A phone beeped. "Ah!" T rooted through his bag and dug it out, pressed a couple buttons, and crashed backwards onto his bed. "Dammit…"

"Huh? What's up?" Al asked. Arthur seemed to be getting cozy on his pillows.

"Nothing, just this ex that won't stop bothering me…"

"Lemme help!" Alfred reached for the cell. T tried to scrabble forwards and take it, but Al just quickly hit the 'delete' button. "There! Don't worry, I didn't see the message or sender or nothin'. Now you can pretend it never happened, bud."

"…I guess." Didn't sound too enthusiastic, but Alfred knew the sentiment must be there.

"Heh. You're welcome!"


	13. Chapter 13

The chapters will continue to be as long as I want. Also, I know what communism is.

_

* * *

_

_Alright, I'll do it._

Alfred was—admittedly, still in bed—but thinking. He'd woken up, managed to reach over to his desk, and shut his alarm up. It was 9. He _had_ class, but not for like three hours. He'd set it this early so he could make a run for McDonald's breakfast… he was starting to think the dining hall was more and more an appealing idea. Saved on having to get up.

He hadn't dozed back off yet, though, so he was letting his thoughts run, thinking about… stuff.

If this guy—Ivan—liked him _that_ much, enough to follow him around and stalk his Facebook and go to parties just because Alfred was there, it'd be a total dick move not to indulge him, right? Besides, Liz had totally cockblocked him from… uh… herself. Wait, did that count as cockblocking? Yeah, okay, whatever. Point was he wasn't planning on graduating with blue balls. If somebody was _that_ interested, then hell, he'd go with it.

The only issue he could think of was if it didn't work out. Not every relationship was gonna be gold, but would crazy stalker dude take the rejection well? …eh. Alfred figured he'd deal with that once it came up. Wasn't any point in worrying about it all the time.

He opened his eyes a second later and it was 11:17. Shit, shit, shit.

Alfred scrambled out of bed, flailing when he realized the blanket was tangled around is ankle; he kicked it off, back onto the bed, then quickly shrugged a loose t-shirt on, pulled some shorts over his boxers—no time to switch into new ones, class was in thirteen – no, twelve – minutes—and shoved his feet, sockless, into sneakers.

T… T was somewhere, he didn't know, probably left around the crack of dawn or so. Studying off somewhere. Library? Eh, whatever. Priority now was getting the hell out.

He crammed his stuff into his bag and headed out to the hall, almost forgetting to stop and lock his door. His breath came heavy as he bolted over to the bus stop, then… had to sit and wait for the right bus to came by. Ugh, dammit, he was late now for sure. Well, at least it wasn't the first day of classes anymore? Yeah…

He flipped his phone open while he was waiting, then paused for a second, unsure. _Man… _he wasn't sure he really wanted to, but he dialed Matt up. He answered after two rings.

"Hey, Al."

Alfred swung his legs under the bench. "Heyyy, uh… remember last night?"

"Hard to forget." Geez, Al could hear the glare across the line. "I happen to _like_ sleeping, you know? What's up, though?"

"I…" _Screw it._ He'd made up his mind already, right? Right! "I, uh, just wanted to. Apologize?"

"…Alfred Jones does not _apologize_."

"Uhhh… he does! He does as of right now! And also he's not asking about anything like asking someone out because that'd be dumb! Dumber than dumb! Dumber than how he keeps talking himself into a hole! _Alfred Jones's bus is here!_"

He clicked out of the convo to hop onto the bus, grabbing onto one of the vertical rails to hold onto, but—_holy shit!_

"Ivan!"

The boy's head spun around. He looked way surprised at first, but managed to work it down to a polite smile. Alfred quickly started heading over.

And then the bus hit a bump and he fell on his ass.

"Owwfuck!" Ivan, to his credit, stood up and walked over, offering a hand. Al shook it off, standing himself up. "Damn…"

"Ah… Alfred, yes? Good to see you!" He smiled. Trying to cover up for all the stalking, Alfred figured. Can't act like you've been following someone around if you want them not to freak out, really, but Al wasn't gonna worry about that—maybe the big guy was just really shy!

"Yup, that's me! In the flesh!"

"…yes?"

"Haha, but dude, I will _totally_ value your privacy. You goin' to class?"

Ivan shook his head. "No, coming back..?"

"Great!" Al clapped Ivan on the shoulder and grinned at him. "Get off at my stop!"

* * *

YES THAT IS A CLIFFHANGER, but the story description should make obvious what is going to happen. :D ...as should the general flow. Because I am not _that_ mean, really. I promise. (I figured it would be better to get MOST of the scene out as a chapter _now_, rather than waiting another couple days for me to actually finish it? This is my thoughts.)


End file.
